


Down the Line

by Kienova



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Milton (mentioned), Pre-Canon, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kienova/pseuds/Kienova
Summary: Fitz choked as he read the caption, coughing as he skimmed over the text and the picture again. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn it was almost flirtatious.





	Down the Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Florchis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/gifts).



He was writing up an assignment when the text came, his phone chiming where it was discarded on his bed. Fitz groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face before shoving himself to his feet to go retrieve it, cringing at the stiffness in his muscles that came from sitting at his desk for nearly four hours. Stretching, he moved back to the chair again, knowing if he stopped working that he would end up procrastinating the paper even longer and, if he did that, he knew he would have Jemma nagging at him to finish it. He only had the conclusion to write anyway; one more paragraph of bullshit to go.

Grabbing a swig of his long-cold tea, he looked at the sentence he had already typed before letting his eyes flutter to his phone, the cup dropped back down on the desk as he scratched at his neck. It wasn’t like Jemma to send him picture messages, her missives often written with obsessively accurate grammar and punctuation and usually not accompanied by any form of media unless it was class related. Assuming she was showing him something from her latest project, he opened the message, brows instantly furrowing and cheeks blazing when the image came through.

It wasn’t anything particularly damning, but it still confused him beyond proportion. The picture showed Jemma’s face from the nose down and the pale skin of her neck. In it her lips were painted in a colour he had never seen her wear before, her teeth a startling white against the red as she bit at her lip.

**Simmons:**   
  
_ Thinking about you _

Fitz choked as he read the caption, coughing as he skimmed over the text and the picture again. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn it was almost flirtatious.

**Fitz:** **  
** _ Simmons? _

He sent back, feeling his breathing slowly returning to normal even as he allowed himself one more glance at the picture. Surely, she didn’t mean it that way. Or maybe she had just sent it to him by accident.Or was performing some strange type of experiment. She had been working on a biology assignment lately that he wasn’t privy to. 

**Simmons:** **  
** _ I’m lonely. _

She sent back, the comment accompanied by an emoji. He frowned again, not used to her ever using the little icons in their conversations. Although, he reasoned, even though they’d been friends for a few years, most of their texts were either quickly making plans or discussing scientific theory. They didn’t often engage in idle chatter via text, both preferring to be in the same room and to vocalise to one another when they just wanted to relax.

**Fitz:** **  
** _ Come over then? _

He offered, squirming slightly, unable to get the image of her cheeky photo out of his mind. He shook his head. The way her lips looked glossy, dragging his attention to her mouth. The way her lipstick matched her nail polish, any form of paint covering her nails so unusual that he couldn’t help but focus on it. 

**Simmons:** **  
** _ Can’t. _

**Fitz:** **  
** _ Why not? _

**Simmons:** ****  
****__  
Don’t think I could get across campus in this 

Fitz dropped the phone, scrambling up out of the chair and staring at the offending item, the image of Jemma’s torso clad in skimpy lingerie still displayed on the screen. He could see her desk in the background, a cup and saucer on the dark wood as her body was reflected in the mirror of her closet, showing both her front and back at the same time.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, swallowing hard even as he felt his blood rushing south. He had to be sleeping. Had to have fallen asleep on his computer, his mind too tired to continue dealing with his paper and having given up. There was no way in hell he had actually just been gifted with a photograph of his best friend looking like something out of an erotic magazine. 

**Simmons:** **  
** _ Do you like it? _

Her question made him feel dizzy as he grabbed at the phone, hesitating for only a split second before he couldn’t quell his curiosity, opening the picture and looking at it, eyes roving over the pale skin dotted with freckles. Did he like it – Christ, he would have to be stupid not to.

**Fitz:** **  
** _ Yes _ . _ You look… beautiful. _

He hesitated for only a second before sending the message, scrunching up his nose at his use of such a term in reference to his best friend. Of course he knew she was gorgeous. It had been one of the hundred of reasons he had taken so long to find something to say to her. She was brilliant, he knew that from the minute he heard her speak, but to have a physical figure that was just as pleasing to him as her mind was something he hadn’t been able to fully wrap his head around for weeks. He still struggled with it, if he was honest with himself. 

**Simmons:** **  
** _ Tell me what you would do to me if I was there with you _ .

Unable to stay standing, he let his feet carry him back to his desk chair, a million questions running through him at the words on his screen. Surely she wasn’t meant to be texting him something so suggestive. Surely she didn’t mean anything quite as raunchy as he was imagining.

**Fitz:** **  
** _ We could watch a movie? _

**Simmons:** **  
** _ Surely there’s something else we could do. Perhaps involving your hands on me and little else? _

“Fuck,” he swore, unable to stop himself from palming at his cock, his erection growing with the images that immediately bombarded his mind. Jemma laid out on his bed, her skin on display as he would slide his hands up from her hips to her chest, peeling the red fabric from her breasts until he could latch onto a nipple and suck, hard. 

**Fitz:** **  
** _ What exactly do you have in mind? _

He felt nearly dizzy when he hit the send button, curiosity raging within him even while shyness attempted to prevail. He couldn’t believe that Jemma was actually attempting to engage in sexting with him. They had never done anything like that before. Had never spoken or even hinted that either of them would want such a relationship with one another. Even if the thought had crossed his mind every now and again over the past few years. 

**Simmons:** **  
** _ I would want you to touch me. _

He nearly choked on his tongue at her response.

**Simmons:** **  
** _ Tell me what you would do. _

God, how was he supposed to respond to that? How was he supposed to temper the thoughts that were rushing through his head?

**Fitz:** **  
** _ I want to kiss you. To know what you taste like. What it would feel like to press my body against yours. _

He cringed at how forward he sounded, but he couldn’t get the idea out of his mind. What would it feel like to kiss her? To have her lips pressed against his and her body molded against him?

**Simmons:** **  
** _ Keep talking. What else would you want to do to me? Surely not just a simple kiss.  _

Fitz groaned aloud to his empty dorm room, shucking his tie and buttondown as he suddenly felt overheated, palms sweating slightly. 

**Fitz** :   
_ If… if I were with you right now I would kiss you deeply. I’ve imagined it a million times. What it would be like to grab you and kiss you. To taste your lips. To feel your tongue against mine while holding you against me.  _

**Simmons** :   
_ Mm, you’ve got me intrigued. Tell me more? _

He grinned, still feeling the blush colouring his cheeks at the tiny success his response had won him even as he crafted the next message.  He chewed his lip for a moment, considering what words to use, unsure of how raunchy his language should become.

**Fitz** :   
_ I want to lay you on my bed and kiss your neck. To let my hands wander. Would you let me slide them up your ribs? Let me touch your breasts? _

**Simmons** :   
_ I'm lying on my bed right now, imaging it. I wish I could feel the weight of you on me.   _

Stumbling slightly, Fitz moved out of his chair, wincing at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his jeans. Nervously, he dropped his phone on the sheets before yanking his undershirt off and kicking his shoes away, sitting down on the edge of the bed in just his trousers, unable to stop himself from palming at his erection as he scrolled back up to the picture of Jemma in her underwear, letting his eyes rove over it. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would look like, strewn beneath him, pillowed in the fabric of his sheets with the dim light from his bedside lamp casting shadows over her skin.

**Fitz** :   
_ Me too. I wish you were here with me _

She replied not a moment later.

**Simmons** :   
_ Would you let me undress you? _

Her question shocked him, heart pounding beneath his ribs as he nodded to the empty room before remembering that he needed to type his reply.

**Fitz** :   
_ Yes _ .

**Simmons** :   
_ Show me. _

Her request made him swallow thickly, looking down his body at the pale skin of his stomach, only a tiny bit of definition to his abdominal muscles due to the mandatory physical education credits they were forced to take for basic field training. Cringing, he moved the phone away until he could take a quick picture, only capturing part of his stomach and his lap in the frame. He sent it back without allowing himself to dwell, hoping it wasn’t too much of a disappointment for her.

**Fitz:  
**

He waited with baited breath as the little dots showing she was typing appeared on his screen, his palms sweating. 

**Simmons** :   
_ Would you let me unzip your trousers? Let me see you? I want to wrap my hand around you - to feel your penis. _

He snorted at her anatomically correct language, shaking his head, the anxious tension breaking slightly at how much she sounded like herself with the anatomically correct term. 

**Fitz:** **_  
_ ** _ Only if you’re not so clinical about it, Simmons. I want to hear you say cock - would sound so wonderfully dirty in that prim and proper accent of yours.  _

He sent the reply without really thinking, immediately panicking when he realised how brazen he had been. Fitz shook his head, reasoning with himself as he waited for her response. If she had wanted him to behave properly she wouldn’t have been saying she wanted to touch him so intimately; his language, therefore, shouldn’t matter as much as he was thinking. 

**Simmons** :   
_ Take your cock out. Stroke it for me. Nice and slow.  _

He felt as if the wind was knocked out of him when she answered, his erection surging against his fly as he took one shaking hand, following her instructions without contemplation. He reached for his zipper, tugging it down before gingerly taking out his throbbing member. He stroked himself languidly, barely any pressure behind his fingers as he let himself imagine her hand in place of his own. Her delicate fingers playing over his skin, well kept nails only giving the barest hint of sensation as she would move up and down. 

He wasn’t sure what to say next. Wasn’t sure how far he should take things. But he couldn’t quell the curiosity in him that made him desperate to find out what she would do. What she would say next. 

**Fitz:** **  
** _ I'm touching myself, wishing it was you. _

He barely had the words out before she was responding. 

**Simmons** :    
_ Let me make you hard. _

**Fitz** :    
_ I already am. Why don't you take off your knickers and your bra.  _

As much as he had loved the sight of her in the revealing and sexy lingerie, he couldn’t help but want to know what she looked like underneath the sheer, red fabric.  

**Simmons** :   
  
_ They're off.   _

“Jesus Christ,” Fitz moaned, fingers tensing around his cock at the sight. He stared at the screen for ages, eyes roving over every inch of skin he could see. He couldn’t help the way his body reacted as he let his gaze settle on the edge of her areola, the darker skin a startling contrast against the rest of her breast even as it rested against the edge of her arm. He wanted to tell her to let her arms down, to let him see her breasts properly. To let him trace his tongue along the edges until he would center in on her nipple, sucking the bud into his mouth. To let his fingers play over the tiny, soft freckles on her skin. To hear her sigh, breathy and high as her own hands would tangle in his hair, pressing his mouth harder to her body. 

**Fitz:** **_  
_ ** _ You’re so beautiful _ . 

Despite the eroticism of the image and the way his thoughts were running rampant, he couldn’t help but give the honest confession. She was beautiful. He was entranced by everything about her. From the way her mind worked, faster and more intricately than anyone he’d ever met, to the way she would blush when she didn’t immediately understand a social cue from their peers or the way she would snore softly when she fell asleep while they were studying, mouth open slightly as she would lean into his shoulder. 

**Simmons:** **  
** _ I’m so wet. _

“God fucking damnit,” he swore, his momentary lapse into romantic ideals forgotten at the sight of the words. His fingers shook, heart hammering as he typed the next few words. 

**_Fitz:_ ** **_  
_ ** _ Yeah? What are you thinking about?  _

‘Please, please be me,’ he begged silently. 

**_Simmons:_ ** **_  
_ ** _ How much I wish it was you touching me. That it was your fingers on my breasts, my thighs.  _

He released his hold on his cock, clenching the sheets in his fists instead as he let out a long breath, trying to centre himself before he picked his phone up again, deciding to forgo overthinking and instead just saying exactly what came to mind. 

**_Fitz:_ ** **_  
_ ** _ I wish I was there. All I can think about is how much I want to fuck you.  _

**_Simmons:_ ** **_  
_ ** _ Tell me about it. Tell me how you’d fuck me.  _

Her missive came with another saucy image, this one of her fingers, barely covering herself, settled between the pale skin of her thighs. He wondered what the pads of her fingers were pressed against. Were they trailing simply over the edges of her labia? Nudging against her clit? Slipping inside the wet heat of her pussy? He let out another groan at the unanswered questions, starting to pump himself again as he struggled to text with his other hand.

His response took a while, the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock fumbling with the screen, his words first too gentle, then too crass. He hoped she wouldn’t be offended by his lack of creativity, but his little experience with women left him scrambling to think of what she might like. What she might let him do to her, if he were actually poised above her. And, if he was honest, what he desperately wanted to do.  

**Fitz:** **_  
_ ** _ I want to touch you so badly. Run my hands up your thighs until I can push your legs apart and I can see you. See how wet you are for me. I want so many things with you Jemma. Want to take you apart with just my fingers. My mouth. To delve into your cunt and suck and lick at your clit until you can’t see straight. I want to feel you cum on my tongue so that I can taste how sweet your release is. I want to watch you ride me, taking pleasure whatever way you want, as your gorgeous tits bounce. But now… I don’t think I could be patient. I want to slide between your thighs and push inside you. God, I’m going to get hard every time I see you now - thinking about it. Going to want to take you over every surface on campus. In class. In the library. Against the hall in your dorm.  _

**Simmons** :   
_ Will you tease me first? If you were to take me in the hall? Or the library? _

**Fitz:** **  
** _Depends what you’d be wearing._ _If you were wearing a skirt, I don’t think I’d be able to do anything but tease you. To push you up against the wall or the stacks. Let my hands skim over your thighs, pushing the fabric of your skirt up until I can feel your skin. Bite at your neck while using just the tips of my fingers to rub between your legs, just enough to feel how wet you’d get. See if I could make you moan. Make you writhe._

He squeezed his dick, stroking hard at the images conjured in his mind. He could almost feel her, chest heaving as he would back her up into the wall, pulse at her neck beneath his tongue and burning wet heat against the tips of his fingers as he would shove her knickers aside and plunge first one, then two, fingers inside her, stretching her before he would replace his hand with his erection. 

**Simmons:** _   
_ _ You could. I’m so wet, thinking about you fucking me against the wall. Or over the desk.  _

The photo that came with the message showed her fingers, glistening in the dim light from her bedside lamp, slick with her arousal. The angle still didn’t let him see between her thighs, but to know that she was fingering herself and getting off on their conversation was more than enough to cause him to take a moment, breathing hard as he clenched his hand at the base of his cock, trying to stave off his body’s desire to combust. 

**Simmons:** **  
** _ How long would you make me wait? _

**Fitz** **_:_ ** **_  
_ ** _ Not long.  _

**Simmons** :   
_ Good, because I don’t think I could wait. I want so desperately to have you inside me. I would let you bend me over the library table, pull my skirt up until you could slip inside my aching pussy. You’d feel so good, slowly filling me up from behind. The weight of you over my back. Mmm. _

He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he rolled over, hastily getting to his knees. Without allowing himself to think, he took a quick photo, showing the position he was in, cock hard and leaking in the ring of his fingers as he held himself.   

**Fitz** :  
 _I want that. Want to take you from behind, hands on your hips as I pound into you._ _Watch my cock slide in and out of you._

**Simmons:**   
_ Please _ .  _ I want you inside me. Want to feel you. I’m so wet for you, so desperate for it. I can’t get enough from just my fingers - they don’t fill me up like your cock would.  _

**Fitz:** **  
** _ Yeah? You want me to fuck you? Want me to fuck you hard? Slam my cock inside you? Christ, Jemma, you’d be so tight, wouldn’t you? Hot and wet as you squeeze me while I fuck you into the table. Would you brace your hands against the wood for me? Rock back into me so I can grab your hip with one hand while I play with your tits with the other?  _

**Simmons:** **  
** _ Please, oh please. I’m so close. _

Her response was short and curt, making him realise that she really was close to orgasm. He wondered, vaguely, how many fingers she has inside herself. He wondered how she liked to pleasure herself. Would she spread her legs wide and bury her hand between her thighs? Would she prefer to keep them close together, leaving tension in her core and hiding her swollen clit until her fingers would press over it? Or would she like to be on her stomach, riding her own hand as she would hump and grind against the mattress, soaking her sheets in arousal? 

**Fitz:** **_  
_ ** _ Yeah? How close are you Jem? Gonna let me cum inside you? I want to. God, I’m nearly there. Spread your legs for me, let me fuck you hard and spill my cum inside that tight cunt of yours.  _

He winced when he realises what he’s said, expecting her to immediately rebutte him with a comment about safe sex. But in his fantasy, he was inside her with nothing between them, her arousal painting his skin as he would let his hips rock. 

**Simmons:**   
_ Fill me up. Pound my pussy with that cock until you’re bursting inside me. I want it. Want to feel you. Oh, I’m going to cum - _

He groaned, bucking his hips, pushing his cock through the ring of his fingers as his body rushed towards the finish line. 

“FUCK,” he groaned, barely managing to brace himself against his headboard before he started to cum, cock twitching and jerking even as he continued to stroke himself. The first few shots were powerful, spurting from the tip onto his sheets, streaking them in white, while the next were were subdued in comparison, spilling over his fingers and leaking down, dripping onto the mattress until he was spent. 

Shaking and panting, he flopped onto his side, the hand covered in cum ending up on his belly as he flinched at the sensation. He forgot a heartbeat later, however, when his phone beeped in the tangled mess of bedding. 

**Simmons:**   
_ You have no idea how hard you made me cum. I can’t feel my legs. _

It took him a moment to respond, unsure of what the normal etiquette was when two people who were sexting one another had both reached orgasm. A fantastic orgasm in his case. 

**Fitz:** **  
** _ I should probably shower but I don’t think I can get up ;) _

He frowned when he realised he had sent a winky-face but nearly choked on his tongue a second later at her reply. 

**Simmons:** _   
_ _ Did you make a mess? _

**Simmons:** _   
_ _ Show me _

The two messages came in quick succession. He glanced down at his stomach and hand, both still sticky with his release. He carefully angled the phone with his clean hand, trying a few different holds before giving up and just taking the photograph. It showed his hand and belly, as well as his slowly softening cock resting along his thigh. 

**Simmons** :  **_  
_ ** _ If I were there I would lick your fingers clean for you. _

He moaned, head dropping back onto the pillows as his cock gave an interested twitch. 

**Fitz:**   
_ Christ, don’t say things like that unless you’re coming over to make good on that promise. It’s all I’m going to be able to think about in class now. _

**Simmons:**   
_ Go have your shower. I’m tired.  _

**Fitz:** **  
** _ Fine, you bloody tease. I’ll see you tomorrow? _

**Simmons** : _   
_ _ Of course. Goodnight xx _

He hesitated only a moment before replying in kind. 

**Fitz:** **  
** _ Goodnight Jemma xo _

\---

Fitz swallowed thickly, feeling his heart pound as he moved towards their table in the library, Jemma’s back to him as he approached. Images conjured from what they had spoken about the night before fluttered through his mind, but he shoved them back, knowing that those fantasies needed to stay in his head, at least for the time being. He had read over their conversation again that morning, needing to confirm that he hadn’t dreamt it. Seeing the words in the light of day had made his pulse rush even faster, palms sweating the entire time he walked from his dorm to the library. He couldn’t help but need to touch her, to let her know what she meant to him, even in an extremely chaste and publicly acceptable way. He sucked in a breath, steeling himself as he finally made it to the desk, feeling himself flush as he leaned down, dropping a kiss onto her cheek.

“Morning,” he whispered, moving away until he could drop down into the chair adjacent to hers, trying to discreetly rub the sweat from his palms onto the thick denim of his jeans as he let his book-bag fall to the floor. Jemma’s eyes were wide, a stunned expression on her face as she watched him. Fitz immediately started to fidget at the way she was looking at him. “I… uh, sorry. I just…” he stumbled.

“Fitz?” Jemma squeaked, panic starting to flutter over her features. “Wh-what was that for?” Her question made him feel sick, irritation quickly replacing the butterflies that had been swarming in his belly since he had seen the way the sunlight was hitting her long hair, casting flecks of brown, gold and red around her.

“Sorry I just… I thought that after last night maybe… never mind. Forget it. I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Last night?” she demanded, face paling. “What… what are you…”

“What am- Christ Simmons, you send me pictures of yourself looking like something out of one of my fantasies and then we… sext half the night and you just… God,” Fitz seethed, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to salvage a tiny bit of dignity, the desire to run thrumming in his blood. He should have never brought it up. Never thought that she could want him the way that he’d been wanting her for months, now that he was being honest with himself. He’d gone and ruined their relationship instead of just accepting what she was willing to offer.

“Oh my God,” Jemma gulped, eyes frantic as she looked around the library. “I… I sent that… to  _ you _ ?” Her question threw him, making his irritation dissolve into the pain of rejection. “We… that whole… oh God.”

“Oh,” he muttered, cheeks flaming as he looked down at his hands in his lap. “None of that was meant for me.”

“N-no,” Jemma affirmed, voice shaking.

“I should go.” He stood as he said the words, tripping over his feet in his haste to leave the library.

“Fitz, wait!” Jemma called. He didn’t listen to her plaintive tone, however, rushing out of the room as quickly as he could manage.

He shouldn’t have ever been so stupid.

\--

Jemma stared at her contact list, nausea swimming in her belly from a combination of the alcohol she had been drinking the night before and also at the way she had screwed things up so badly. Listed right next to one another on the list were the two men plaguing her:

**_Leo Fitz_ **

**_Milton Bresic_ **

She had clicked on Fitz’s contact when she started the messages instead of Milton’s and, in her state of inebriation and heightened nervousness about sending suggestive texts and pictures, she hadn’t even noticed her error. Cringing, she opened her message history, scrolling through her texts with Fitz from the night before, seeing the damning evidence in the startling light of day for the first time. She clenched her eyes shut, resting her forehead on her hand as she struggled not to burst into tears in the middle of the library.

Her resolve broke within seconds as she buried her face into the sleeve of her jumper, trying to keep as quiet as possible as she sobbed. She barely concealed her trembling, her mind racing a mile a minute at the fact she had just ruined the best thing in her life because she had been an idiot. An idiot who had decided to drink even though she was underage, because the boy she had been sort-of seeing had suggested that they be more spontaneous and that he would like their relationship to be more physical. Because she had been so worried about how her messages would be received and if they would be enjoyed that she had taken to drinking to dull her nerves. The boy she had very much  _ not _ been texting the night before. Because she had, instead, been texting Fitz.

Jemma hiccuped, terror rushing through her. The first reason being that she had ruined her friendship. The second being that his words and the images he had created in their texts and the few photos he had sent her, had set her blood alight and made her body react in ways no one else had ever managed to. Even as she tried to fight the memories down, they kept rising up, unbidden, making her realise how she should have seen that she wasn’t texting Milton sooner. That she had been texting the man she called her best friend. The man who knew her better than anyone. That filled all the ragged pieces of her with himself until they made one, whole person. The man that she had been imagining doing all those things to her - instead of the man she was dating.  

The sound of footsteps made her jump, hastily trying to wipe the tears from her face as she looked around, finding Fitz standing a few feet away, pale and sheepish looking. 

“Forgot my bag,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the floor as he moved back to the table, snatching the neglected knapsack off the ground before turning to leave again. Jemma grabbed his wrist before he could get more than a few inches away, feeling the tension running through him, a slight tremble in his hands. 

“Wait, please,” she croaked, turning until she was facing him, knees bumping into his leg. He tried to shy away from her she wouldn’t let him, tightening her grip. 

“Jemma, we… we don’t need to do this. You made a mistake. It’s… it’s fine.” She could sense the resignation in his voice, a sound she recognised from when they first met. From when he barely spoke to anyone at the Academy, always assuming that everyone would push him way. She hated that she had caused that insecurity in him. 

“It isn’t fine,” she insisted, unable to stop the sob that wrenched its way out of her throat. “It isn’t fine because… because as much as maybe what I did wasn’t intended, I can’t deny the way it made me feel. The way  _ you _ make me feel.” He looked at her then from beneath his lashes, trying to ignore the hope that was bubbling in his chest. 

“And… and how is it I make you feel?” he questioned. 

Her response was to lean up and kiss him. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Brassica derives from the Celtic word bresic, the term used for cabbage. The proper Latin term for cabbage is Brassica Oleracea. You’re welcome.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3  
> Come visit me on [Tumblr](http://www.kienova66.tumblr.com) if you'd like :)


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